Page 1 of Two Risks I'd Never Take Again

Chapter 1

Driving at night on a deserted road ignited my imagination, and numerous unlikely scenarios played out in my head. None of them good. But braving dark and empty roads was better than staying at my parents’ house overnight. Loving them did not mean I enjoyed spending time with them. Mostly because of the bickering. Completely because of the bickering.

They argued constantly, and normally, I spent most of my visits clenching my teeth because of the stress. Almost every time, I left with a tension headache. Today hadn’t been as bad. There’d only been one heated discussion, but today was only one day out of many.

Now I was headed back home to my quiet life of singlehood.

Between their example and my broken engagement, it was an easy decision to stay single. Love was too big a risk. And, as I’d been told, I wasn’t very good at it.

Raindrops splattered on the windshield, and I shook my fist at the sky. “Just wait. I’ll be home in twenty minutes. Then you can rain. Let me get home first, and I’ll... um... plant a tree somewhere.” Negotiating with Mother Nature might not work, but there was no one here to say it wouldn’t. “And I’ll grow plants that butterflies like. Please.”

I switched on the wipers. Mother Nature wasn’t in a bargaining mood apparently. Or she didn’t like butterflies.

The wipers slapped back and forth as the rain came down in sheets, and I squinted to see the road.

Why had I let mom and dad talk me into staying for the movie? I’d shown up for Thanksgiving as promised, but now I’d likely be up past my bedtime. Granted it was only a few minutes after eight, but I’d be exhausted when I woke up at four to go make doughnuts. Everyone wanted doughnuts on the busiest shopping day of the year.

The rain let up a little but didn’t stop completely.

Keeping my eyes focused on the road, I felt around for my coffee and took a sip. That would help me stay alert.

Something small and fuzzy darted out into the road. I slammed on the brakes, landing coffee all over me. That stainless mug sure held in the heat. Ouch!

“You’re welcome, Mr. Raccoon.” I guessed at the raccoon part. That made the most sense. Whatever it was didn’t hop like a bunny or skitter like an opossum or armadillo.

I pulled off to the side of the road and yanked tissues out of the center console. What a mess. I wiped my face and chest.

Lightning streaked across the sky, making it seem like daytime for a split second. In the grass, just ahead, something moved. I stared out, scanning the area lit by my headlights.

An arm! And it had to be attached to a body because it was moving.

With my eyes squeezed closed, I grabbed the steering wheel and counted to ten. If the arm was some sort of hallucination, when I opened my eyes, it would be gone. And I’d never trust Mom to make coffee again.

Prying my eyes open one at a time, I leaned forward.

The arm moved again.

I wasn’t hallucinating. Bad coffee and too much turkey weren’t to blame. There was a body on the side of the road. This wasn’t even one of the scenarios I’d thought of, but this was scarier than all of those scenarios. This was what nightmares were made of.

I needed to call Eli. My cousin would know what to do. He’d been trained to know what to do. The first thing he’d tell me was to stay in my car. This could be a trap. I scanned the area again. Was there some burly guy hiding out of sight, waiting to grab me as soon as I jumped out to investigate?

After a deep breath, I picked up my phone. Eli would want me to call 911. I’d call him second.

My hands shook as I tapped the screen, but nothing happened. All those stupid games I’d played during the movie had run my battery down. Of course, the one time I found a body on the side of the road, my phone was dead.

The last time I’d picked up a stranger off the side of the road, she’d thrown up in my car. Eli had lectured me until my ears hurt, and my car smelled horrid. I’d sworn never to risk doing that again. And I bought seat covers. Lesson learned.

But I couldn’t drive off and leave this poor person in the ditch. That would be heartless.

As I tried to figure out what to do, the arm kept moving back and forth.

Raindrops continued to pound on the car. And the person.

If I left whoever it was in the ditch, they could drown or freeze. It wasn’t below freezing, but it was cold. Did it have to be freezing for hypothermia to set in? I had to risk helping the person.

With my umbrella open, I stepped out, watching for the burly guy as I walked toward the body. The umbrella could double as a weapon if anyone jumped out of the darkness. With my coat pulled tight around me, I shivered as I tiptoed toward the figure. The headlights made the body easy to spot.

I leaned over the man, blocking the rain from hitting his face with my umbrella. “Hello, are you okay?”

---